


in our own little world

by afishoutofwater (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, aus abound!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 11:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10535280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/afishoutofwater
Summary: a series of drabbles/oneshots of eren and armin in a series of aus.





	1. Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> okay i /know/ i should be working on the curious cat, and i will return to it in the summer when my commitments have relented a little but for now, i'm just gonna write drabbles when i feel inspired to. so i hope you enjoy these none the less!
> 
> also, these are all written in first person perspective narration because i want to try it out... i rarely do it for many reasons, so lemme know what you think. constructive criticisms are always welcomed, guys! :)
> 
> this story was taken from this prompt: http://onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com/post/158569001365/im-a-music-student-and-youre-a-stranger-who

He’s there again, leaning against one of the windows, illuminated in cascading sunlight. His blue eyes are transfixed on the way the orange, violet, and deep navy blue intermingle as if the world’s most beautiful landscape painting had come to life before him. His long blond hair is tucked behind two small but sticky-out ears, and he has one cartilage piercing glinting in the dimmed light.

He’s wearing the school uniform, buttoned all way to the top and the tie a little out of place, tugged out of its neat knot as if someone had grabbed hold of it and yanked him forward. Maybe a bully trying to kick him down? Or maybe a significant other, pulling him down for a heavy make-out session.

My eyes run over his lips, they’re pink and his red tongue pokes out between them, leaving a glisten in its wake. They’re plump, kissable, and all I want to do at this moment is bite them down between my teeth and listen to him gasp headily.

My fingers leave the piano keys for a moment to run over my own dry, cracked lips and I’m still staring and he hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s still staring out of the window, a hand pressed up against the old, cracking glass. Someone had set a bottle rocket off during break-time and it had hit this window right in the corner, right where he’s sitting, a long time ago.

I take a deep breath and try not to think about the way his nimble fingers rub against the glass, almost seeking freedom, I try not to think about the red, angry, handprints on his exposed wrist.

I begin to play my piece once more and he’s startled, and he looks directly at me with a hint of embarrassment on his beautiful face. I don’t look at him but I hear the screech of the table legs against the linoleum floor when he stands up and the tap of his shoes as he leaves.

I’m all alone in the music room and I look to where he had sat and my mind begins to wander. I take hold of a pencil and begin to write down words and adjacent music notes.

* * *

He’s there again the next day, sitting across from me in the exact same place and there’s a bruise on his cheek. He looks too pretty for me to handle and I want to press a cold palm to the bruise, to kiss his button nose and whisper that everything will be okay.

_Wow, Eren, that’s really gay._

He looks up when I begin to scribble words down onto my music sheet and I hum along to the music I’ve created. I write about the way he paints the evening sky with his hopeful, blue-eyed gaze. How the way the trees bend when his fingers draw along the glass, outlining every speck of nature. How his lips mouth words, inaudible words, which only the air around him can hear. His blond hair is tucked behind his ears again and I can still see that piercing, that one glimpse of rebellion against the straight-laced perfect uniform.

“What are you writing?” He asks and his voice is beautiful. It’s like a skylark opening his mouth and singing to the moon as she appears in the deepening, darkening navy blue sky. My heart accelerates to a crescendo as he steps forward, that squeak of the table like the chill of a violin string struck at the wrong angle.

“Oh… nothing,” I respond and he’s right there at the piano. It’s worse up close because he’s like a chorus of young choir boys singing to God above and praising him for the beauty around them.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he says and he leans over and oh god, he smells like rosewater, and daffodils opening to on the first day of spring. He reads over a few visible lines and his expression becomes unreadable when he figures it out.

“I-I…”

“You wrote that about me?”

“W-well, I…”

“You… Wow… I’ve never had anyone write a song about me before. Do you really think all those things?”

I nod slowly and I still can’t tell if I’m in trouble.

“What does it sound like?” He then asks, his eyes light up in joy. “I want to hear it. Will you let me hear it when it’s done?”

“Yes, if you want,” I reciprocate the joy illuminating his features and I swallow down the relief.

He smiles brightly and it’s harmonious with his beauty. He snatches up a stray piece of paper and rips a corner off. He scribbles down a set of numbers. “My name’s Armin. Just text me when the song’s finished. I can’t wait to hear it.” He winks at me and leaves me alone once more.

He’s bewildering and I look over the sheet of paper he left behind. A new spark of creativity runs through me and I turn back to creating a masterpiece of the masterpiece who sits at the window.


	2. Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jean is a bad roommate but at least armin’s there to keep eren company.
> 
> from this prompt: http://onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com/post/109541121888/yet-another-college-au-prompt-meme

“Let me in you asshole!”

I bang my fist against the front door, wiggling the door handle willing for it to open by sheer luck. I had suspected something like this would’ve happened considering my asshole roommate, Jean, and my sister, Mikasa, are dating, and in all fairness it was suspicious how they sent me alone for a pizza run at 11 o’ clock at night… _Yeah, I walked right into that one… Nice one, Jaeger_.

I try and make a violent ruckus, kicking and screaming at the door for entry and when it’s to no avail I try and text his lazy ass. Some part of me berates me for remembering my damn phone, but not my keys (and in my defence, Jean promised to let me in when I came back… _How did I not see this coming, really?_ ).

 _Let me in_ , I type hurriedly.

 _Busy_ , Jean texts back instantly.

Busy? Busy!? You piece of shit…

“Are you okay?” A voice asks, and I look up from my phone screen and it’s Armin, the neighbour from down the hall. He’s dressed in tight Lycra and a loose fitting t-shirt, his hair is tied back messily, stray strands falling around his face and his hair’s as out of place as his clean sneakers, almost brand new.

“Ah, yeah, Jean locked me out.”

Armin makes a face that looks almost sympathetic. His eyes then dart to the pizza boxes beside me and his stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl. Those eyes then widen and he slaps a hand over his taut stomach. “Sorry…”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah… I’ve haven’t eaten all day, I’ve been at dance class.”

I pat the space beside me and then open one of the boxes, the cardboard squeaks in release and we both begin to salivate at the smell of melting cheese and bubbling spiced tomato sauce. I’d managed to get stuffed crust too, just because I really wanted it at that moment.

“Gosh, that looks good,” Armin says as he sits beside me. He takes off his gym bag and sets it to the side and then he reaches over my lap and grabs a slice and I can see a small tattoo of a feather hidden behind his ear. His back curves as he wrestles to free a slice from the pie, muscles flexing and relaxing and my mouth waters a little because _oh my god, why have I never noticed how **hot** Armin was until now!?_ When he leans back, a slice of pizza in his hand, the salt sweetness of his skin hits me instantly and I swallow thickly, trying to will away the arousal building up in my veins. He curls a strand of blond hair behind his tattooed ear and sinks his teeth into the pizza.

He pulls away, his lips connected with a string of mozzarella. He breathes out a laugh and his eyes catch mine instantly.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” He asks, snapping the chain and licking his lips clean.

“Oh, yeah!” I snap back to reality, no longer entranced by Armin and the way he eats and I grab a slice myself and bite into it. We sit there quietly and noisily eat the pizza I had bought for no real reason in hindsight, and when we were finished through one of the boxes, I offer the other to him.

“Oh, no thanks, I can’t eat too much pizza, my teacher will get mad at me.”

I shrug my shoulders. “You can share with your roommate…”

“Ha… I live alone, actually,” Armin admits. And I’m about to continue the conversation when the door unlocks and Jean pokes his head around, hair standing up at all angles and there’s sickening pink bliss across his cheeks.

“Sorry about that, Eren…”

And he doesn’t even look sorry, asshole.

“No worries, I was just chilling with my new best friend, Armin.”

Armin grins and I swear his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Sorry, Jean.”

Jean rolls his eyes. “Are you coming in?”

I nod my head and pick up the empty pizza box that I shove in Jean’s face. “See ya, Armin. We should do this again sometime.”

“You know where I live!” Armin returns, walking down to his flat.

“What’s this?” Jean asks snatching the pizza box from me. “Where’s my pizza?!”

“Armin and I ate it. This one,” I gesture to the full one under my arm. “Is all mine.”


	3. Ice-Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which eren works in a burger van and is entranced by the boy working in the ice-cream stall opposite him.
> 
> from this prompt: http://onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com/post/101118662766/skeleponine-yeah-but-we-were

His hair’s like a golden halo, glittering in the beating sun as he hands over an overflowing ice-cream cone to an anticipating child. He has a kind smile on his face, the kind of smile that radiates warmth through even the coldest of people and can light up a room instantly. As the kid walks away, licking the ice-cream jovially, he watches after him and his mother with a wistful sigh, resting his chin against his palm.

“Excuse me?” A teenage girl says, waving her hand in front of my face with an agitated expression on her face. I focus on her and stand up straight, not realising I was beginning to mirror his pose. She folds her arms across her chest and huffs out hot air. “I’d like two cheese burgers please. Hold the pickles on both.”

I tap the order into the out-dated cash register and it pings, the money drawer opening and punching me in the gut. I cough awkwardly and the girl and her friend, who had just appeared, begin to laugh at my expense. “That’s 6.50 please.”

She hands over a ten dollar note and I cash it quickly, handing over the 3.50 change and then turning around and relaying the order to the cooks in the back of the burger stand.

Another kid runs up to the ice cream stand opposite me and he points excitedly at menu, tugging on his mother’s hand. Summer must taste so sweet to those without responsibility. The boy at the cash register, the blond angel of some mystic French painting, smiles down at the child and talks to the mother, probably offering some flavour combinations.

The teenage girl’s friend stands on her tip-toes with a pink face and wide-eyed gaze. “He’s cute,” she then says to her friend and I pretend I didn’t hear.

“You have weird taste,” her friend returns and I scowl a little, annoyance twitching in my veins. There’s a quick ding behind me and I turn on instinct, grab the wrapped burgers and all but throw them at the girls. They don’t even say thank you and walk away. I’m given a perfect view of the boy across from me as he scoops up a ball of pistachio ice cream and carefully places it on a chocolate coated cone. He hands the ice-cream to the mother who pays for it briskly and I hear her tell him to keep the change.

As he puts the cash in the register, his eyes catch mine. Is it cheesy to say his eyes are as blue as the cloudless sky above us? Is it cheesy to say that I’m kind of getting lost in them and I won’t lie, I would drown in them too?

A hand comes down onto my shoulder and Jean is smirking at me with quirked eyebrows. “Break-time, Jaeger. Why don’t you visit _Scoops A Plenty_ boy?”

_Scoops A Plenty_ is the name of his ice-cream stand. I scowl at my boss but accept the offer with gratitude and whip off my apron and _Burger Boy_ cap. I exit out of the cramped stand and count the coins in my pocket, I probably have enough for a small cone – which is fine because I’m not really all that hungry… At least, not for food.

The boy turns pink as I walk up and he ducks behind the cash register.

“Welcome to _Scoops A Plenty_ , how can I help you?” He says meekly and I wonder if I should be as polite as him to our customers.

“Hi, I’ll have a small chocolate ice cream please,” I order, jabbing a finger at the display case. The boy looks at the ice cream and grabs a sugar cone from behind him and rolls up two scoops and places them meticulously in the cone. I can see his name tag now. “So, Armin-“

Armin drops the cone in surprise and lets out a strangled groan in frustration.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I don’t want it anyway. Here.” I hand over the money.

“What do you mean you don’t want it?” Armin asks.

“I actually came over to talk to you. I’m Eren and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since I started working over there.” I jab my thumb towards the burger stand and Armin follows my gesture with those blue eyes and then turns a deeper shade of pink.

“Oh God… You’ve been watching me? I was worried you’d noticed me watching you…”

“You’ve been watching me too!?”

“Well yeah… You’re like, really hot, why wouldn’t I?” Armin says and he’s starting to relax, his blush dying down and he’s leaning against the counter top.

I grin. “Say, when your shift is finish you wanna check out the arcade down the Boardwalk?”

“Sure! It’s a date,” Armin accepts with a flirtatious wink and I return back to the burger shack. We spend the next few hours silently flirting and I’m sure Jean is regretting is decision to help hook us up. Ah well, I can’t say I feel all that sorry for him…


	4. Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which eren has never said i love you before and armin is growing impatient.
> 
> a/n: this is probably the last little drabble i’ll post up for now. my friend’s gotten me into miraculous ladybug and i’m hooked. i'll be posting all of my eremin season fics on here too! i hope to see you all soon!

Weddings were never a really thing I cared much for, I never saw the point in the tradition, and didn’t weddings cost, like, an obscene amount of money? None of the romance and frilliness ever suited me and even when Mikasa announced that she and Jean were engaged, I couldn’t exactly say I was over the moon. Sure, excited and happy for her, but not exactly _head-over-heels cannot-contain-myself_ excited.

In fact, romance never suited me much to begin with. I had a run-in with a few relationships and they never really lasted. In fact, the last one I remember with some significance was Annie and that lasted for about a month and a half before I realised I was completely gay and girls just weren’t doing it for me anymore.

From that point on, I never really saw myself falling into a relationship where I could just be satiated, it wasn’t like the town we lived in was very LGBT-friendly, and all of the gay and bi guys I knew were either already in a relationship or just weren’t my type.

And then, Armin came along. He was a newbie, fresh-meat, straight out of the city. He came to Shiganshina on a gloomy Monday morning but I swear to you, I couldn’t even see the rain from the sunlight he held in his eyes. He was all blond, blue eyes, and content smiles and rosy cheeks. I fell instantly.

We dated on and off for a few weeks before just diving in headfirst into a relationship and I can honestly say I’ve never felt like this with anyone – now I know how true happiness feels. I wake up in the morning and Armin’s beside me with the messiest bed-head and worst morning-breath on the planet and I can’t find myself to care because he’s there, he’s here, he’s with me.

And with all the energy I feel around him, all the love I can muster, I haven’t exactly said it yet, but he knows right? He knows that I love him, surely? I make him breakfast in bed sometimes and I come home with flowers after a rough day at work and he’s there and he kisses me and he says, _these are beautiful Eren, how did you know that daffodils are my favourite?_

Everything seemed fine and I didn’t really feel the need to say I love you, because I’ve never actually said it to anyone in my life… and the thought of saying, having that weight crash onto me, left me more scared than anything in my life. Saying I love you had commitments, saying I love you had the pressure to make it work and without it, everything was like clockwork – or so I thought.

“Eren,” Armin turns to me after a day at work. He’s made a cup of tea for the both of us but there is a cold look in those warm blue eyes. “How long have we been dating?”

I hang my coat and scarf up and I ponder to myself for a second. “About seven months.”

“Seven months,” Armin echoes with a curt nod. “And how many months were we dating when I said that I loved you?”

“About five.” I remember the day clearly; it was the happiest day of my life.

“Right. And do you remember what you said back to me?”

Oh God, it’s this talk. “I said, _backatcha hot stuff_.”

“Yeah, yeah you did. It’s been two months since then, don’t you have it in you to say it to me now?”

I sigh and take a seat. I reach for Armin’s hands but he moves them from my grasp with a pointed expression. “Armin… I’m not _there_ yet…”

“When _will_ you be there, Eren? How long do I have to wait for you? How long do you _expect_ me to wait?”

“I don’t expect you to, really… I understand your frustration but I… I just can’t.”

Armin doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he takes a deep breath. “I won’t give you an ultimatum, Eren, but I’m not waiting forever.” And with that he stands up and pours the remainder of his tea in the sink and exits the kitchen. I hear the bedroom door open and slam shut and within minutes Armin is back with a weekend bag. “I’m going to stay with my cousin, Christa, for a little while. I’ll see you at Mikasa’s wedding.”

“Wait, Armin, you don’t have to go-“

“Yes… Yes I do, Eren.”

And with that swift response he’s out of my life for a whole week. I message him every morning and I never receive a reply and I can understand he’s miffed, yeah… but I’m trying to work things out – he’s the first relationship where I actually wanted to hold on and keep it afloat, and it seems I’m sinking into the depths of an unrelenting ocean.

The week to Mikasa’s wedding flies by and I finally see him in the chapel – he’s had a haircut, his blond hair cropped close to his ears and I can see the string of metal along the curve of his ear.

“Hi,” I say as I take my seat beside him.

“Hey,” he replies back as if nothing has happened.

I turn to start conversation when the chapel hushes and the wedding march begins to play from the organs. The doors open and sunlight pours in, broken by Mikasa’s silhouette. Remember how I told you that weddings weren’t my thing? Well, they’re still not, but Mikasa’s is my sister after all and the emotions just sort of came out of a blubber. Armin runs a hand down my back as comfort as I watch with watery eyes as Mikasa makes her way down the aisle, being walked by our father.

The vicar begins to groan, chanting his _dearly beloveds_ and _we are gathered here todays_ in a string of verbalised nonsense. How many times must he recite this drivel?

Though, as I watch the way Jean can’t take his eyes from my sister and the way her usually stoic eyes held a sparkle of joy in them, I can’t help but feel like I want that to be me one day. Standing there, Armin’s hands in my own as I vow to never leave him, to never stop loving him – as if I could ever stop loving him.

“Armin, I’ve been an idiot.”

“Do you have to do this now?”

“Yes, because if I don’t-“

“If any person here can show cause why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

I’ll lose Armin forever.

“I love you Armin, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

He stares at me for a long second, trying to figure out my sincerity in such a confession. His eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen and his mouth is gaped into a perfect ‘o’ shape. He watches from his peripheral to see that Mikasa and Jean have moved onto their _I Do’s_ and he turns to me and pulls me into a kiss.

“I love you too, Eren, you giant idiot.”

Nope, weddings were never my thing, but because of Armin, there’s only one I need to think about now.

 


End file.
